


Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

by ofskullsandpoetry



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x09 prayer scene, 15x20 can suck my dead gay toes, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Dean Winchester Thinks Castiel is Dead, Dean Winchester is Loved, Dean Winchester is Not Heterosexual, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fix-It of Sorts, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Prayer, TW - John Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:00:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28903773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofskullsandpoetry/pseuds/ofskullsandpoetry
Summary: A look at Dean Winchester's life through the lens of prayer (specifically towards one angel of the lord).[CANON THROUGH 15x19 CAUSE ALL MY HOMIES HATE 15x20]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	Father, Son, and Holy Spirit

Dean Winchester did not pray. Who was there to pray to? There couldn’t be a god, and if there was, he certainly didn’t care about Dean. So it was useless to pray. Praying wouldn’t bring mom back. Praying wouldn’t make him normal. Praying wouldn’t make dad hate him less. Praying wouldn’t keep Sam safe. So he didn’t pray, no matter how much his mom used to tell him that angels were looking after him, he couldn’t seem to believe it. 

The first time Dean prays, it is to save Sammy. To do his job. No other reason. Afterward, he reminds himself that he does not  _ need _ Castiel’s help. (Although he enjoys being around him and having someone else besides Sam is a nice change. Plus the “man” is an all-powerful angel, couldn’t hurt to have one of those on the team). Dean can’t shake the feeling that it was wrong somehow, asking for help like that. If Cas could read his thoughts when he was asking for help, what else did he know? Dean prefers not to think about it. He can’t help but blame himself when Cas gets killed. He was the one who prayed for his help in the first place. He was the one who needed to be pulled out of hell. He wonders what would’ve happened if another angel had helped him instead. He shakes his head and focuses his mind on the task at hand. Now is not the time to feel too deeply, or to believe too much. 

Sometimes feelings come out too strong in prayer. Dean knows this. It’s in the small glances Cas gives him after long days in the bunker’s library. Sometimes it’s when Cas appears out of thin air after Dean has had one too many beers. He knows. He  _ knows _ . But they never talk about it. Not out loud. So Dean just keeps praying. Maybe it isn’t always accidental. Maybe it’s the only way he  _ can _ say it. Maybe it’s the only way he can believe it. 

Dean is not one for tradition or ceremony. When he prays, it’s usually just in thought, never once has he ever gotten down on his knees and prayed. He hasn’t even considered it. But he needs Cas. And there’s only one way that he can think of to talk to Cas. And so there he is a hunter in Purgatory, down on his knees, praying to an angel. If he could only tell his younger self what’s happening. And he says it. Well, he doesn’t  _ say _ it, he  _ prays _ it. The only damn way he knows how to say those words. If his dad were here he’s slap Dean silly for even thinking those words, but he’s not. He’s in purgatory. He’s here and he needs Cas. And Cas heard him. He  _ heard  _ him. Dean thinks that this could refer to any part of the prayer, but hopes, silently, not loud enough for Cas to hear, he hopes that Cas heard him. And maybe, a small silent part of him hopes that Cas believes it. 

Dean sits there, the concrete floor uncomfortable, the room far too dark, far too empty. And he prays. He knows he won’t be heard, not by Cas, but maybe someone else will hear him, maybe someone else will care. He’s prayed to Cas like this before, alone, in a dark room, fighting back the stupid thoughts in his head. And just like all those other times, he knows he won’t get an answer. But he still prays. He guesses that this is what Sammy used to feel like, praying every night. Hoping for a response from some asshole in the sky, hoping for something concrete to come from a stupid thought. This time the prayer isn’t structured, not like when he usually wants Cas to answer. It feels more urgent, more rushed. He  _ needs _ to get the words out. How could Cas just say it so easily? The words just falling from his mouth as if he’s practiced a thousand times. He wonders if he had practiced. He wonders if he would’ve said something sooner, maybe he could’ve heard him say it a thousand times. But it’s too late now. He couldn’t say it. So he prays. And he prays. And he prays. And maybe if he thinks those words loud enough, strong enough, Cas will come back. And for the first time in a long time, he stops believing. 

Dean starts an accidental ritual after Chuck is defeated. He starts praying every night. It feels stupid at first, talking to someone who isn’t there, someone who can’t hear him. But it’s the only way he can talk to Cas anymore. Some days he yells at him for taking the deal, leaving him so early, letting them deal with Chuck. Some days he just lets himself cry, and lets the words just fall from his mouth over and over again. Some days he just tells Cas a joke he heard or something he learned. Most days he just tells him about the day, what dumb thing Sam did, how Eileen is, the next hunt, the plot of a movie he watched. Every night he prays, and no matter what he prays about he ends it with those same words. He believes that maybe those nights may be the only time he’ll ever be able to say how he really feels. 

Dean Winchester lays down in bed, pulls the covers over himself, and lays down on the pillow. He doesn’t pray to Cas anymore, not like he used to. It's not like Cas would hear him anyway anymore. These days, he’s learned to say the stuff he wants people to hear. Cas finds it annoying when he’ll call him up in the middle of the day just to tell him what’s on his mind. He always asks why Dean is telling him. Dean always says that he’s praying. Cas laughs and hangs up the phone. It was rough going at the beginning when Cas was pulled out of the empty. Humanity wasn’t easy. With the loss of the angel radio and immortality, plus the need for sleep and food, Cas was taking his time adjusting. And Dean, well Dean needed to get used to actually speaking up. He realized quite quickly that the usual method of praying wasn’t going to work anymore. Some things still remained the same though. Cas was still a dork, and Dean was still a pain in the ass. And just as every night, before bed, Dean reached over, planted a kiss on his angel’s temple, and said it. 

_ I love you, Cas.  _

And Cas, usually already half asleep would reply. 

_ I love you too, Dean.  _

And after many many nights, Dean started to believe again. 

**Author's Note:**

> teehee hope y'all maybe enjoyed this. this is my first one-shot so I hope that it doesn't suck?? yeah kudos always appreaciated.


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